


wistering tumblr ficlets

by wistering



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistering/pseuds/wistering
Summary: Just another collection of drabbles and shorts posted on tumblr.Half porn, half soft feelings.





	1. Timetravel Thorki Ficlet

“Well, this is awkward.”

“Loki,” Thor breathes. His hand reaches unbidden to brush against the soft, pale cheek of his brother’s face, his fingers dipping into the raven hair, short and slicked back, gently curving around the nape of his neck. Thor’s one eye blurs. His brother is so young. Loki’s wide eyes are so large and innocent on his face, his lips so pink and full, stained from the wine he’d been drinking when Thor had arrived. Thor feels like an age has passed since he had last seen his brother so innocent, and he cannot stop himself from grabbing Loki and hauling his younger brother into his arms. Timelines be damned, his mission damned - nothing is more important than the feeling of his brother in his arms, as he should always have been.

Loki’s arms come up around him, completing their embrace. “Thor,” he says, his voice more tantalizing and sweet than the fruits he so loves. “My King,” he says, and Thor stiffens in his arms.

He pulls back. “You--”

“Yes,” Loki hisses, and his face is still so young, so beautiful - but Thor can see, now, in his eyes. His brother.  _ His  _ Loki. Before Thor can say another word, Loki launches at him, lips pressing against Thor’s in a bruising kiss. Loki bites and nips at Thor’s lips, and it only takes a moment for Thor’s body to come alive, his blood boiling for Loki, lightning arcing over his skin in crackling bolts. Thor growls, hauling his brother up by his legs and crowding him against a pillar, shoving his brother against the stone. Loki’s lips taste of tart wine, and Thor licks into his mouth, savoring the sweet moans which spill wantonly from from Loki’s throat. 

They are out in the open in Asgard’s palace. Anyone could see them, but Thor can barely spare a moment to think about such things. He had only just arrived moments ago. The second he’d seen Loki, everything had stopped. Stormbreaker had clattered to his feet, and Loki’s goblet of wine had joined it as the two brothers sought each other’s mouths and skin, pressed so tightly together that there was no space between, as if seeking to mend the separation that had torn them apart.

“How,” Thor says, voice broken. Loki mouths at the skin of his neck, biting and claiming the exposed flesh as if to mark his brother for all to see. Thor trembles, baring his neck to his brother’s wet lips and hard teeth. “How, Loki--”

“And how did  _ you  _ get here?” Loki chuckles deeply, the dark sound drawing a trail of heat down Thor’s cock. His brother trails his lips up Thor’s throat to brush against the shell of his ear. “We can talk about that now, or we can do  _ this _ .” He rolls his hips, his thighs and ass sliding tantalizingly in Thor’s grip, his hard cock shoving hotly against Thor’s own. Thor groans, needy, and he drops his head forward, his hips jerking helplessly against Loki’s heat. 

“Norns, you are the devil.”

Loki laughs, open-mouthed and gorgeous. Thor kisses him to drink his laugh from the source, and the laugh quickly turns to moans.

“Thor,” Loki says, lips sliding against Thor’s, one of his hands grasping Thor’s short-cropped hair and yanking. “Thor, to my rooms - I need--” Loki keens when Thor rubs his fingers against Loki’s hole through his trousers.

“Needy thing,” Thor says. “Used to be able to wait for my cock.”

Loki laughs again. He wraps his arms around Thor’s neck. “This will be the first time I’ve ever been fucked,” he whispers, delighting in the stutter of Thor’s breath. His eyes dance with glee. “Do you still want to wait?”

Growling, Thor tears off for Loki’s chambers, his brother laughing in his arms the entire way.


	2. soft and sleeping

Thor finds Loki asleep on the couch, his dark hair spread out like a corona over the cushion. The gentle afternoon sunlight drifted from the window and wrapped Loki in its warmth and light, the soft shadows caressing the contours of Loki’s face. Loki had curved himself around a throw pillow - his habit of cuddling Thor in their sleep had carried over to even inanimate objects, much to Loki’s denial - and his legs splayed out to the edge of the sofa, one leg hanging off, foot brushing the floor. He looked like one of the paintings Thor had seen, when Loki had brought him around the cultural centers of Midgard’s New York. There had been many a painting of fair and lovely women in repose, their bodies held gently atop beds and divans. If Thor could capture this moment of Loki, his brother’s image would far surpass the beauty of any of those paintings.

Thor quietly padded to his brother’s side, rounding the coffee table atop which sat a half-empty mug of tea. He felt grimy, like a splotch of dirt upon the most beautiful and pristine surface of silk, but Thor couldn’t stop himself from nearing. Up close, Loki’s face was absolutely mesmerizing. Thor wasn’t sure how it was possible for a man to be able to enthrall his entire being simply by existing, but that was how Thor felt as he gazed at Loki in his slumber. His brother was at peace, and so, too, became Thor. The ardor and fatigue of battle left his heart, settling Thor. He was anchored by the soft sounds of Loki’s breath, and the flutter of his eyelashes. Their dark color had turned a warm light brown in the sunlight, glittering from the captured rays which lit his entire face. Thor raised his hand and gently stroked the pale cheek. His hand was dark with dirt and blood, and it cast a shadow over Loki’s face. Still Thor could not stop touching Loki. 

He sat, carefully lowering himself onto the carpet, and settled his head against the armrest of the sofa. From here he could gaze at Loki and listen to the sound of his brother’s breathing. And that was all that Thor needed. He closed his eyes and rested.


	3. Thor's favorite place (is in Loki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off of foreverthorki's tumblr ask: _Thor's favorite place to be is in Loki's tight, warm hole. It's literally the perfect thing._

**i.**

Thor has Loki on his back. He drapes himself like a static-filled blanket, every inch of him clinging to Loki’s skin, yearning to hold and wrap around his brother, and refusing to separate even when pulled. His cheek is pillowed on Loki’s bare chest, his ear pressed over his brother’s heart. The strong rhythm lulls him with its constancy: it is the sound of ocean waves, and the tide drags him deeper and deeper inside. His brother’s hands are warm where they brush over Thor’s shorn hair and sweep his rippling shoulders; Loki’s legs widen just enough to let Thor between them, and slot closed around Thor’s back. There is no room to slide out even an inch, and this suits Thor fine - for here, pressed inside his brother, covering him, surrounding him, Thor feels most at home. Loki is under him, around him, whispering into his ear; Thor rolls his hips, his length housed inside the perfect, tight heat, never leaving, only shifting inside as Loki gasps and pulls Thor closer, tighter, legs locked so that they are one; and no space, or air, or word or dust can come between them.

 

 

**ii.**

Loki had earned the right to the first shower, he’d said, but Thor had never been good at waiting. Loki still had half a head of suds when the bathroom doors slid open. “Thor,” he had said, a warning: but Thor slid into the shower behind him anyway. He wrapped his arms around Loki’s waist and laid his head on the slope of Loki’s shoulder, his chest fitted to Loki’s back. The empty eye socket brushed against Loki’s skin, and Loki paused his tongue. Thor did not move; he simply stood there, held around Loki, while the water ran down him like rain. So Loki continued to lather the suds in his hair, the white foam dripping down and carried away into the drain. Thor was hot between his thighs, but not in demand: his body simply reacted in Loki’s presence. Thor did not demand anything - but Loki let his legs slip open, let the tip of Thor’s cock glide between his cheeks. Loki continued lathering his hair even as he murmured to Thor, and let him in; and when Thor was seated all the way inside, the suds had run out, and Loki’s hands were free to scrabble against the wall as Thor rocked into him from behind.


	4. Worship

 

Thor worships Loki. He will spend hours pressing kisses to every inch of Loki’s skin, lips murmuring praises and love. Thor skims his fingers across every sensitive patch, and presses hard on the places that make Loki gasp. When Loki’s body trembles and quivers beneath his touch, Thor slides his calloused hands in comfort over that sensitive skin; and when Loki settles, panting, Thor continues, lavishing him with gentle bites and soft licks until Loki cries out in pleasure.

What Thor doesn’t know is that Loki worships him, as well. In the day, when they wander the ship and tend to their people, Loki’s eyes never stray far from Thor’s place. Loki leans toward him, imperceptibly, like a flower straining toward sunlight; he laughs, eyes cloaked, heart hidden. But within, he gathers every image of his brother, he hoards every expression and every smile of Thor’s so that one day, when they inevitably separate once again, Loki will unearth these treasures and hold them closely in the hole of his heart where his brother was meant to fill.

 


	5. Dragon Age AU

The apostate slinks into Thor’s tent at night, while the rest of the camp sleeps. Thor sits up from his cot, growling, and reaches for his hammer. “Back, foul demon; do not approach.”

The apostate only laughs, wicked and soft in the night. He is already stripping down his robes, pale skin outlined by the wisps of moonlight that filter through the flaps in the tent. “Come now, my prince,” Loki croons, climbing atop Thor’s bed with ease. He settles his weight on Thor’s legs, and wraps his arms around Thor’s shoulders. Leaning forward, he whispers, “If you dispose of me, then who will lead you to the den?”

Thor growls again, and when the apostate nips at his ear, jerks his head away. “Enough. Cease this, or I shall–”

“You shall what?” Loki has a hand at the back of Thor’s neck. His clever fingers play with the strands of Thor’s hair. “Have me taken away and beaten? Thrown into chains? Silenced with gags? Will you treat me as my captors before, and break me until I can no longer use my foul and demonic magics?” The reminder sets Thor’s chest aflame with rage, and his hands grip Loki’s hips with bruising strength. Loki chuckles. “No. You couldn’t bear to see me like that. Is that not why you rescued me, brother, and flooded the castle with the blood of my captors?”

“Do not call me that,” Thor says hoarsely.

“Oh? Then what would you have me call you?” Loki’s voice is pure temptation, sinuous and dark. The demons are not only in Loki’s mind, Thor thinks; Loki must have already been corrupted and become one himself. One of lust and desire, who can lure Thor into sin with just a simple bat of his eyelashes. “Master?”

“No.”

“My prince?”

Thor shudders. The warmth of Loki’s body seeps into his skin as Loki presses himself along the length of Thor’s torso. The words are puffs of air leaving Loki’s thin and curving lips, and Thor remembers vividly the shape of those lips as they opened around moans. “No,” Thor says, because even if Loki is no longer who he was - even if this apostate who bears his brother’s name and likeness is no longer Thor’s brother - Loki, too, had once been a prince. Thor cannot bear to be called that way by him.

The apostate chuckles. His face is close, now, so close that Loki’s lips brush against Thor’s, teasing, tantalizing. When Loki whispers the next words, Thor feels them written against his own mouth. “My love,” he says, and Thor quakes. He slips his eyes shut and, as if pulled by a spell, leans forward to close the distance between them.


End file.
